Pastor Blake
There’s an old Church in a meadow a mile outta town,
Where the kids went swimming, t’was the farmer’s lake.
At the time, farmer prayed no kid would ever drown,
Chief lifeguard at the damn was Pastor Blake.
Church each Sunday, commenced with a nine o’clock call,
Turning up to Church late, snapped the pastor wide awake.
Words weren’t required, the Pastor’s eyes said it all,
Annoyed at the altar, stood a fired-up Pastor Blake.
His eyes sparkled welcome, then he would start to pray,
After Service he’d be seen, handing ‘round home-made cake.
Was his way of showing, he just knew what to say
An’ when prayers finished, they all stood with Pastor Blake.
A beer in one hand, and a straw hat atop his bald head,
He stood tall in every way, in no way was he fake.
In his spare time, the Bible was the only book he read.
Was the pride of this tiny town, a good man Pastor Blake.
The old Church still stands, seldom used these days,
Sunday mornings after church, ladies still serve tea an’ cake
Memories still raise smiles at Pastor Blake’s good old ways.
How much we’d all love to see, the return of Pastor Blake.
But Pastor Blake went to war, died in the Battle of the Somme,
A bomb destroyed his little Church dropped from a high up above.
The last sound he heard was the monotonous bomb hum,
Never found Blake’s body, just his Ros’ree an’ a glove.
Now there’s weeds round the Church, the door’s long been locked,
Visitors don’t come calling, there’s no one’s hand to shake.
Seems quite a long time since anyone’s knocked,
What I’d give for five minutes, with my friend Pastor Blake.
Now I know I’ve a friend, way up there in the sky,
I accept, the Good Lord showed him the right road to take.
An’ I still believe the Lord’s reasons why,
Gee I wish he was still here, my friend Pastor Blake.
But mem’ries hold strong, good folk never depart,
They always retain a place deep in one’s heart.
They induce a smile when you’re struggling an’ down,
An’ when you need a smile, they become the clown.
So if you’re hurt, or just suffering heart ache,
I’d suggest you look up my friend, Pastor Blake
He don’t lecture or complain what’s wrong with life,
Just lives life well, an’ avoids all kinds of strife.
Offers a helping hand if ever he sees need,
Often talks ‘bout the sins of envy, laziness an’ greed.
Says we must be alert, be strong an’ stay awake,
An’ he set the right example, my friend Pastor Blake.
